Full text of "A discourse, delivered at Plymouth, December 22, 1820, in commemoration of the first settlement of New-England"

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DECEMBER 22, 1820.

Kn eowmemovatton ot

THE FIRST

SETTLEMENT OF NEW-ENGLAND.

n^JSflEl/wEBS TER.

SECOJVD EDITION
V

^ BOSTON:

WELLS AND LILLY, COURT-STREET.

1821.

«osTON, Dec. 26, 1820.

ISIR,

1 HAVE received yours of the 23d, communicating the request of the
Trustees of the Pilgrim Society, and of the Committee of the Historical
and Antiquarian Societies, that a copy of my Discourse may be furnish-
ed for the press. I shall cheerfully comply with this request; but at the
same time I must add, that such is the nature of my other engagements,
that I hope I may be pardoned if I should be compelled to postpone
this compliance to a more distant day than I could otherwise hav«
wished.

I am, Sir, with true regard.

Your most obedient Servant,

DANIEL WEBSTER.

To Samvei. Davis, Esq.

Corresponding Secretary of the Pilgrim Societi/.

' '?* rf^ ("TTii IIW TP^ (S^ T^

Let us rejoice that we behold this day. Let us be
thankful that we have lived to see the bright and happy
breaking of the auspicious morn, which commences the
third century of the history of New-England. Auspi-
cious indeed ; bringing a happiness beyond the comnion
allotment of Providence to men ; full of present joy,
and gilding with bright beams the prospect of futurity,
is the dawn, that awakens us to the commemoration of
the Landing of the Pilgrims.

Living at an epoch which naturally marks the pro-
gress of the history of our native land, we have come
hither to celebrate the great event with which that
history commenced. Forever honoured be this, the
place of our fathers' refuge ! Forever remembered the
day which saw them, weary and distressed, broken in
every thing but spirit, poor in all but faith and courage,
at last secure from the dangers of wintry seas, and im-
pressing this shore with the first footsteps of civilized
man !

It is a noble faculty of our nature which enables u&
to connect our thoughts, our sympathies, and our hap-
piness, with what is distant in place or time ; and, look-
ing before and after, to hold communion at once with
our ancestors and our posterity. Human and mortal
although we are, we are nevertheless not mere insulated
beings, without relation to the past or the future. Neith-
er the point of time, nor the spot of earth, in which we
physically live, bounds our rational and intellectual en-
joyments. We live in the past by a knowledge of its

history ; and in the future bv hope and anticipation.
Bv ascendiiig to an association vvuii our anct-stors ; by
couitmplating th«ir example and studying their charac-
ter ; by partaking their sentiments, and imbibing their
spirit ; by accompanying them in their toils, by sym-
pathising in their sufferings, and rejoicing in their suc-
cesses and their triumphs, we mingle our own existence
with iheirs, and seem to behmg to their age. We be-
come their contemporjiries, live the lives which they
lived, endure what they endured, and partake in the
rewards which they enjoyed. And in like manner, by
running along the hne of future time, by contemplating
the probahle fortunes of those who are coming alter
us; by attempting something which may promote their
happiness, and leave some not dishonorable mr>morial
of ourselves for their regard when we shall sleep with
the fathers, we protract our own earthly being, and seem
to crowd whatever is future, as well as all that is past,
into the narrow compass of our earthly existence. As
it is not a vain and false, but an exalted and religious
imagination, which leads us to raise our thoughts from
the orb, which, amidst this universe of worlds, the
Creator has given us to inhabit, and to send them with
something of the feeling which nature prompts, and
teaches to be proper among children of the same Eter-
nal Parent, to the contemplation of the myriads of
fellow beings, with which his goodness has peopled the
infinite of space ; — so neither is it false or vain to con-
sider ourselves as interested and connected with our
whole race, through all time; allied to our ancestors;
allied to our posterity ; closely compacted on all sides
with others ; ourselves being but links in the great chain
of being, which begins with the origin of our race, runs
onward through its successive generations, binding to-
gether the past, the present, and the future, and ter-
minating at last, with the consummation of all things
earthly, at the throne of God.

There may be, and there often is, indeed, a regard
for ancestry, which nourishes only a weak pride ; as

there is also a care for posterity, which only disguises
an habitual avarice, or hides the workings of a low
and grovelling vanity. But there is also a moral and
philosophical respect for our ancestors, which elevates
the character and improves the heart. Next to the
sense of religious duty and moral feeling, I hardly
know what should bear with stronger obligation on a
liberal and enlightened mind, than a consciousness of
alliance with excellence which is departed ; and a con-
sciousness, too, that in its acts and conduct, and even
in its sentiments and thoughts, it may be actively
operating on the happiness of those who come after it.
Poetry is found to have few stronger conceptions, by
which it would affect or overwhelm the mind, than
those in which it presents the moving and speaking
image of the departed dead to the senses of the living.
This belongs to poetry, only because it is congenial to
our nature. Poetry is, in this respect, but the hand-
maid of trwe philosophy and morality ; it deals with us
as human beings, naturally reverencing those whose
visible connexion with this state of existence is severed,
and who may yet exercise we know not what sympa-
thy with ourselves ; — and when it carries us forward,
also, and shows us the long contiimed result of all the
good we do, in the prosperity of those who follow us,
till it bears us from ourselves, and absorbs us in an
intense interes; for what shall happen to the generations
after us, it speaks only in the language of our nature,
and affects us with sentiments which belong to us as
human beings.

Standing in this relation to our ancestors and our
posterity, we are assembled on this memorable spot,
to perform the duties, which that relation and the pre-
sent occasion impose upon us. We have come to this
Rock, to record here our homage for our Pilgrim
Fathers ; our sympathy in their sufferings ; our grati-
tude for their labours ; our admiration of their virtues ;
our veneration for their pi(?ty ; and our attachment to
those principles of civil and religious liberty, which

thej encountered the dangers of the ocean, the storms
of heaven, the violence ofsavages, disease, exile, and
famine, to enjoy and to establisli, — And we would
leave here, also, for the generations which are rising up
rapidly to fill our places, some proof, that we have
endc.ivoLued to transmit the great inheritance unimpair-
ed ; tiiat in our estimate of public principk^s, and
private virtue ; in our veneration of religion and piety ;
in our devoti(m to civil and religious liberty ; in our
regard to whatever advances human knowledge, or
improves human happiness, we are not altogether un-
worthy of our origin.

There is a local feeling, connected with this occasion,
too strong to be resisted ; a sort of genius of the place,
which inspires and awes us. We feel that we are on
the spot, where the first scene of our history was laid ;
where tiie hearths and altars of New-England were
first placed ; where Christianity, and civilization, and
letters made their first lodgment, in a vast extent of
country, covered with a wilderness, and peopled by
roving barbarians. We are here, at the season of the
year at which the event took place. The imagination
irresistibly and rapidly draws around us the principal
features, and the leading characters in the original
scene. We cast our eyes abroad on the ocean, and we
see where the little barque, with the interesting group
u])on its deck, made its slow progress to the shore.
W'o look around us, and behold the hills and promon-
tories, where the anxious eyes of our fathers first saw
the places of habitation and of rest. We feel the cold
which benumbed, and listen to the winds which pierced
them. Beneath us is the Rock, on which New-Eng-
land received the feet of the Pilgrims. We seem even
to behold them, as they struggle with the elements,
and, with toilsome etforts gain the shore. We listen
to the chiefs in council ; we see the unexampled
exhibition of female fortitude and resignation ; we hear
the w hisperings of youthful impatience, and we see,
what a painter of our own has also represented by his

pencil, chilled and shivering childhood, houseless,
but for a mother's arms, couchless, but lor a mother's
breast, till our own blood almost freezes. The mild
dignity of Carver and of Bradford ; the decisive and
soldier-like air and manner of Standish; the devout
Brp:wster ; the enterprising Allerton ; the general
firmness and thoughtfulness of the whole band ; their
conscious joy for dangers escaped ; their deep solicitude
about dangers to come ; their trust in heaven ; their
high religious faith, full of confidence and anticipation:
— all these seem to belong to this place, and to be
present upon this occasion, to fill us with reverence
and admiration.

The settlement of New-England by the colony which
landed here on the twenty second of Deceinber, sixteen
hundred and twenty, although not the first European
establishment in what now constitutes the United
Sates, was yet so peculiar in its causes and character,
and has been followed, and must still be followed, by
such consequences, as to give it a high claim to lasting
commemoration. On these causes and consequences,
more than on its immediately attendant circumstances,
its importance as an historical event depends. Great
actions and striking occurrences, having excited a
temporary admiration, often pass away and are forgot-
ten, because they leave no lasting results, affecting
the prosperity and happiness of communities. Such
is frequently the fortune of the most brilliant military
achievements. Of the ten thousand battles which have
been fought ; of all the fields fertilized with carnage ;
of the banners which have been bathed in blood ; of
the warriours who have hoped that they had risen
from the field of conquest to a glory as bright and as
durable as the stars, how few that continue long to
interest mankind ! The victory of yesterday is reversed
by the defeat of to-day ; the star of military glory,
rising like a meteor, like a meteor has fallen ; disgrace
and disaster hang on the heels of conquest and renown ;
victor and vanquished presently pass away to oblivion,

and the world goes on in its course, with the' loss only
of so many lives and so much treasure.

But if this be frequently, or generally, the fortune
of military achievements, it is not always so. There
are enterprises, military as well as civil, which some-
times check the current of events, {jive a new turn to
human affairs, and transmit their consequences through
ages. We see their impor ance in their results, and
call them great, because great things follow. There
have been battles which have fixed the fate of nations.
These come down to us in history with a solid and
permanent interest, not createn by a display of glitter-
ing armour, the rush of adverse battalions, the sinking
and rising of pennons, the flight, the pursuit, and the
victory ; but by their effect in advancing or retarding
human knowledge, in overthrowing or establishing
despotism, in extending or destroying human happiness.
When the traveller pauses on the plain of Marathon,
what are the emotions which most strongly agitate
his breast? What is that glorious recollection, which
thrills through his fr>me, and suffuses his eyes ? — Not,
I imagine, that Grecian skill and Grecian valour were
here most signally displayed ; but that Greece herself
was here saved. It is because to this spot, and to the
event which has rendered it immortal, he refers all the
succeeding glories of the republic. It is because if
that day had gone otherwise, (jfeece had perished.
It is becaust he perceives that her philosophers, and
orators, her poets and painters, her s(;ulptors and archi-
tects, her governments and free institutions, point
backward to Marathon, and that their future existence
seems to have been suspended on the contingency,
whether the Persian or the Grecian banner should wave
victorious in the beams of that day's setting sun. And
as his imagination kindles at the retrospect, he is trans-
ported back to the interesting moment, he counts the
fearful odds of the contending hosts, his interest for
the result overwhelms him ; he trembles, as if it were
still uncertain, and seems to. doubt, whether he may

consider Socrates and Plato, Demosthenes, Sophocles
and Phidias, as secure, jet, to himselt and to the world.

" It" we conquer," said the Athenian commander on
the morning of that decisive daj, — " If we conquer,
we shall make Athens the greatest citj of Greece."
A prophecy, how well fulfilled ! — -' If God prosper us,"
might have heen the more appropriate language of our
Fathers, when they landed upon this Rock . — "if God
prosper us, we shall here begin a work w hich shall last
for ages ; we shall plant here a new society, in the prin-
ciples of the fullest liberty, and the purest religion :
we shall subdue this wilderness which is before us;
we shall fill this region of the great continent, which
stretches almost from pole to pole, with civilization and
Christianity ; the temples of the true God shall rise,
where now ascends the smoke of idolatrous sacrifice ;
fields and gardens, the flowers of summer, and the
waving and golden harvests of autumn, shall extend
over a thousand hills, and stretch along a thousand
vallies, never yet, since the creation, reclaimed to the
use of civilized man. We shall whiten this coast with
the canvas of a prosperous commerce ; we shall stud
the long and winding shore with an hundred cities.
That which we sow in weakness shall he raised in
strength. From our sincere but houseless worship,
there shall spring splendid temples to record God's
goodness; from the simplicity of our social union, there
shall arise wise and politic constitutions of government,
full of the liberty which we ourselves bring and
breathe ; from our zeal for learning, institutions shall
spring, which shall scatter the light of knowledge
throughout the land, and, in time, paying back where
they have borrowed, shall contribute their part to the
great aggregate of human knowledge ; and our descen-
dants, through all generations, shall look back to this
spot, and to this hour, with unabated affection and re-
gard."

A brief remembrance of the causes which led to the
settlement of this place ; some account of the peculi-

arities and cliaracteristic qualities of that settlement, as
distinguisherl from other instances of colonization ; a
short notice of the jirogress of New-England in the
great interests of Society, during the century which is
now elapsed ; witli a (i'W observations on the princi-
ples upon wl.ich society and government are established
in tiiis country ; — comprise all that can be attempted,
and much more than can be satisfactorily j)erformed on
the present occasion.

Of the motives which influenced the first settlers to a
voluntary exile, induced them to relinquish their native
country, and to seek an asylum in this then unexplored
wilderness, the fust and principal, no doubt, were con-
nected with Religion. They sought to enjoy a higher
degree of Religious freedom, and what they esteemed
a purer form of Religious worship, than was allowed
to their choice, or presented to their imitation, in the
old world. The love of Religious Liberty is a stron-
ger sentiment, when fully excited, than an attachment
to civil or political freedom. That freedom which the
conscience demands, and which men feel bound by their
hopes of salvation to contend for, can hardly fail to be
attained. Conscience, in the cause of Religion, and
the worship of the Deity, prepares the mind to act, and
to suffer beyond almost all other causes. It sometimes
gives an impulse so irresistible, that no fetters of power
or of opinion can withstand it. History instructs us
that this love of Religious liberty, a compound senti-
ment in the breast of man, made up of the clearest
sense of right, and the highest conviction of duty, is
able to look the sternest despotism in the face, and with
means apparently most inadequate, to shake principali-
ties and powers. There is a boldness, a spirit of dar-
ing, in religious reformers, not to be measured by the
general rules which control men's purposes and actions.
If the hand of power be hud upon it, this only seems to
augment its force and its elasticity, and to cause its ac-
tion to be more formidable and terrible. Human in-
vention has devised nothing, human power has compas-

sed nothing that can forcibly restrain it, when it breaks
forth. Nothing can stop it, but to give way to it ;
nothing can check it, but indulgence. It loses its pow-
er only when it has gained its object. The principle
of toleration, to which the world has come so slowly,
is at once the most just and the most wise of all princi-
ples. Even when religious feeling takes a character of
extravagance and enthusiasm, and seems to threaten
the order of society, and shake the columns of the so-
cial edifice, its principal danger is in its restraint. If it
be allowed indulgence and expansion, like the elemental
fires it only agitates and perhaps purifies the atmos-
phere, while its efforts to throw off restraint would burst
the world asunder.

It is certain, that although many of them were re-
publicans in principle, we have no evidence that our
New-England ancestors would have emigrated, as they
did, from their own native country, become wanderers
in Europe, and finally undertaken the establishment of
a colony here, merely from their dislike of the political
systems of Europe. Tliey fled not so much from the
civil government, as from the Hierarchy, and the laws
which enforced conformity to the Church Establish-
ment. Mr. Robinson had left England as early as
sixteen hundred and eight, on account of the prosecu-
tions for non-conformity, and had retired to Holland.
He left England, from no disappointed ambition in af-
fairs of state, from no regrets at the want of prefer-
ment in the church, nor from any motive of distinction,
or of gain. Uniformity in matters of Religion was
pressed with such extreme rigour, that a voluntary ex-
ile seemed the most eligible mode of escaping from the
penalties of non-compliance. The accession of Eliza-
beth had, it is true, quenched the fires of Smithfield,
and put an end to the easy acquisition of the crown of
martyrdom. Her long reign had established the Refor-
mation, but toleration was a virtue beyond her concep-
tion, and beyond the age. She left no example of it to
her successor ; and he was not of a character which

remlered it probable that a sentiment either so wise or
so liberal should originate with him. At the ()resent
period it seems incredible, that the learned, accomplish-
ed, unassuming;, and inoffensive Robinson should neith-
er be tolerated in his own peaceable mode of worship,
in his own country, nor suffered quietly to depart from
it. Yet such was the fact. He left his country by
stealth, that he might elsewhere enjoy those rights
which ought to belong to men in all countries. The
embarkation of the Pilgrims for Holland is deeply in-
teresting from its circumstances, and also as it marks
the character of the times; independently of its con-
nexion with names now incorporated with the history
of empire. The embarcation was intended to be in
the night, that it might escape the notice of the officers
of government. Great pains had been taken to secure
boats, which should come undiscovered to the shore,
and receive the fugitives; and frequent disappointments
had been experienced in this respect. At length the
appointed time came, bringing with it unusual severity
of cold and rain. An unfrequented and barren heath,
on the shores of Lincolnshire, was the selected spot,
where the feet of the Pilgrims were to tread, for the
last time, the land of their fathers.

The vessel which was to receive them did not come
until the next day, and in the mean time the little band
was collected, and men and women and children and
baggage were crowded together, in melancholy and
distressed confusion. The sea was rough, and the
women and children already sick, from their passage
down the river to the place of embarcation. At length
the wished for boat silently and fearfully approaches the
shore, and men and women and children, shaking with
fear and with cold, as many as the small vessel could
bear, venture off on a dyigerous sea. Immediately the
advance of horses is heard from behind, armed men
appear, and tliose not yet embarked are seized, and taken
into custody. In the hurry of the moment, there had
been no regard to the keeping together of families, in

the first embarcation, and on account of tlie appearance
of the horsemen, the boat never returned for the resi-
due. Those who had got away, and those who had
not, were in equal distress. A storm, of great violence
and long duration, arose at sea, which not only protract-
ed the voyage, rendered distressing by the want of all
those accommodations which the interruption of the
embarcation had occasioned, but also forced the vessel
out of her course, and menaced immediate shipwreck ;
while those on shore, when they were dismissed from
the custody of the officers of justice, having no longer
homes or houses to retire to, and their friends and pro-
tectors being already gone, became objects of necessary
charity, as well as of deep commiseration.

As this scene passes before us, we can hardly for-
bear asking, whether this be a band of malefactors and
felons flying from justice? What are their crimes, that
they hide themselves in darkness ! — To what punish-
ment are they exposed, that to avoid it, men, and wo-
men, and children, thus encounter the surf of the North
Sea, and the terrors of a night storm ? Wiiat induces
this armed pursuit, and this arrest of fugitives, of all
ages and both sexes ? — Truth does not allow us to an-
swer these inquires, in a manner that does credit to the
wisdom or the justice of the times. This was not the
flight of guilt, but of virtue. It was an humble and
peaceable religion, flying from causeless oppression. It
was conscience, attempting to escape from the arbitrary
rule of the Stuarts. It was Robinson, and Brewster, lead-
ing off their little band from their native soil, at first to find
shelter on the shores of the neighbouring continent, but
ultimately to come hither; and having surmounted all diffi-
culties, and braved a thousand dangers, to find here a place
of refuge and of rest. Thanks be to God, that this
spot was honoured as the asylum of religious liberty.
May its standard, reared here, remain forever! — May it
rise up as high as heaven, till its banner shall fan the air
of both continents, and wave as a glorious ensign of
peace and security to the nations !

The peculiar cliaracter, condition, and circumstances
of the colonies which introduced civilization and an
English race into New-England, afford a most inter-
esting and extensive topic of discussion. On these
much of our subsequent character and fortune has de-
pended. Their influence has essentially atfeeted our
whole history, througlj the two centuries which have
elapsed ; and as they have become intimately connect-
ed with government, laws, and property, as well as with
our opinions on the subjects of religion and civil liberty,
that influence is likely to continue to be felt through
the centuries which shall succeed. Emigration from
one region to another, and the emission of colonies to
people countries more or less distant from the residence
of the parent stock, are common incidents in the history
of mankind ; but it has not often, perhaps never happen-
ed, that the establishment of colonies should be attempt-
ed, under circumstances, however beset with present
difficulties and dangers, yet so favourable to ultimate
success, and so conducive to magnificent results, as
those which attended the first settlements on this part
of the continent. In other instances, emigration has
proceeded from a less exalted purpose, in a period of
less general intelligence, or more without plan and by
accident ; or under circumstances, physical and moral,
less favourable to the expectation of laying a foundation
for great public prosperity and future empire.

A great resemblance exists, obviously, between all
the English colonies, established within the present
limits of the United States; but the occasion attracts
our attention more immediately to those which took
possession of New-England, and the peculiarities of
these furnish a strong contrast with most other instances
of colonization.

Among the ancient nations, the Greeks, no doubt,
sent forth from their territories the greatest number of
colonies. So numerous indeed were they, and so great
the extent of space over which they were spread, that
the parent country fondly and naturally persuaded her-

self, that by means of them she had laid a sure founda-
tion for the universal civilization of the world. These
estahlishmonts, from obvious causes, were most numer-
ous in places most contigimus ; yet they were found on
the coasts of France, on the shores of the Euxiiu^ sea,
in Africa, and even, as is alleged, on the borders of
India. These emigrations appear to have been some-
times voluntary and sometimes compulsory ; arising
from the spontaneous euterj)rise of individuals, or the
order and regulation of government. !t was a common
opinion with ancient writers, that they were undertaken
in religious obedience to the commands of oracles ; and
it is probable that impressions of this sort might have
had more or less influence ; but it is j)robable, also, that
on these occasions the oracles did not speak a language
dissonant from the views and purposes of the state.

Political science among the Greeks seems never to
have extended to the comprehension of a system, which
should be adequate to the government of a great nation
upon principles of liberty. They were accustomed
only to the contemplatiou of small republics, and were
led to consider an augmented population as incompati-
ble with free institutions. The desire of a remedy for
this supposed evil, and the wish to establish marts for
trade, led the governments often to undertake the es-
tablishment of colonies as an affair of state expediency.
Colonization and commerce, indeed, woidd naturally
become objects of interest to an ingenious and enterpris-
ing people, inhabiting a territory closely circumscribed
in its limits, and in no small part mountainous and
sterile ; while the islands of the adjacent seas, and the
promontories and coasts of the neighbouring continents,
by their mere proximity, strongly solicited the excited
spirit of emigration. Such was this proximity, in many
instances, that the new settlements appeared rather to
be the mere extension of population over contiguous
territory, than the establishment of distant colonies. In
proportion as they were near to the parent state, they
would be under its authority, and partake of its fortunes,

'riic colony at Marseilles might perceive lightly, or not
at all, the sway of Phocis ; while the islands in the
Egean sea conld hardly attain to independence of their
Athenian origin. Many of these esrablishments took
place at an early age; and if there were defects in the
governments of the parent states, the colonists did not
possess phih)sophy or experience sufficient to correct
such evils iii their own institutions, even if they had not
been, by other causes, deprived of the power. An im-
mediate necessity, connected with the support of life,
was the main and direct inducement to these under-
takings, and there could hardly exist more than the
hope of a successfid imitation of institutions with which
they were already acquainted, and of holding an equali-
ty with their neighbours in the course of improvement.
The laws and customs, both political and municipal,
as well as the religious worship of the parent city, were
transferred to the colony ; and the parent city herself,
with all such of her colonies as were not too far remote
for frequent intercourse and common sentiments, would
aj)pear like a family of cities, more or less dependent,
and more or less connected. We know how imperfect
this system was, as a system of general politics, and
what scope it gave to those mutual dissentions and con-
flicts which proved so fatal to Greece.

But it is more pertinent to our present purpose to ob-
serve, that nothing existed in the character of Grecian
emigrations, or in the spirit and intelligence of the emi-
grants, likely to give a new and important direction to
human affairs, or a new impulse to the human mind.
Their motives were not high enough, their views were
not sufficiently large and prospective. They went not
forth, like our ancestors, to erect systems of more per-
fect civil liberty, or to enjoy a higher degree of religious
freedom. AlK)ve all, there was nothing in the religion
and learning of the ag»', that could either inspire high
purposes, or give the ability to execute them. What-
ever restraints on civil liberty, or whatever abuses in
veligious worship, existed at the time of our fathers'

emigration, yet, even then, all was light in the moral
ancrmental world, in comparison with its condition in
most periods of the ancient states. The settlement ol
a new continent, in an age of progressive knowledge and
improvement, conld not bnt do more than merely en-
large the natural boundaries of the habitable world. It
could not but do much more even than extend com-
merce and increase wealth among the human race.
We see how this event has acted, how it must have
acted, and wonder only why it did not act sooner, in
the production of moral effects on the state of human
knowledge, the general tone of human sentiments, and
the prospects of human happiness. It gave to civilized
man not only a new continent to be inhabited and cul-
tivated, and new seas to be explored ; but it gave him
also a new range for his thoughts, new objects for
curiosity, and new excitements to knowledge and im-
provement.

Roman colonization resembled, far less than that of
the Greeks, the original settlements of this country.
Power and dominion were the objects of Rome, even
in her colonial establishments. Her whole exterior
aspect was for centuries hostile and terrific. She
grasped at dominion, from India fo Britain, and her
measures of colonization partook of the character of her
general system. Her policy was military, because her
objects were power, ascendancy, and subjugation. De-
tachments of emigrants from Rome incorporated them-
selves with, and governed, the original inhabitants of
conquered countries. She sent citizens where she had
first sent soldiers ; her law followed her sword. Her
colonies were a sort of military establishment ; so many
advanced posts in the career of her dominion. A gover-
nor from Rome ruled the new colony with absolute
sway, and often with unbounded rapacity. In Sicily,
in Gaul, in Spain, and in Asia, the power of Rome pre-
vailed, not nominally only, but really and effectually.
Those who immediately exercised it were Roman ; the
tone and tendency of its administration, Roman. Rome

Iiciselt contiiMii'd to be \\w. hvuvi and centre of the
great system wliich she had established. Extortion
and rapacity, finding a wide and often rich fiehi of
action in the jirovinces, hioked nevertheless to the banks
of the Til)er, as the scene in \\lii(h their ill-gotten
treasures should be displayed ; or if a s|)irit of more
honest acquisition prevailed, the object, nevertheless,
was idtimate enjoynient in Rome itself. If our own
history, and our own times did not sufficiently expose
the inherent and incurable evils of provincial govern-
ment, we might see them pourtrayed, to our amaze-
rnf nt, in the desolated and ruined provinces of the
Roman empire. We might iiear them, in a voice that
terrifies us, in those strains of complaint and accusation,
which the advocates of the provinces poured forth in
the Roman Forum. — " Qiias res luxuries in JIai(itiis,
crudelhas in suj)pliciis, avaritia in rapinis, superbia in
contiimeliis, cjjicere potuisset, eas omneis scsc pertn-

A»twas to be exj)ccted, the Roman provinces partook
of the fortunes as well as of the sentiments and general
character of the seat ol'(Miipire. They lived together
with her, they flourished with her, and fell with her.
The branches were loj)j)ed away even before the vast
and veneral)le trunk itself fell j)rostrate to the earth.
Nothing had ()roceed<d from her, which could support
itself, and bear up the name of its origin, when her
own sustaining arm should be enfeebled or withdrawn.
It was not given to Rome to see, either at her zenith,
or in iier decline, a child of her own, distant indeed,
and independent of her control, yet speaking her lan-
guage and ijdicritino her blood, sj)riniiiiig forward to a
comj)etition with her own power, and a comparison
with her own great renown. She saw not a vast
region of the earth, j)eoj)le(l from her stock, full of
states and political communities, improving upon the
models of her institutions, and breathing in fuller mea-
sure the spirit which she had breathed in the best
periods of iicr existence ; enjoying and extending her

arts and lier literatmo ; rising rapidly from political
childhood to maidv strenfrth and indepcnd(Mic-(' ; her
offspring, jot now her equal ; unconnected with the
causes which might affect the duration of her own
power and greatness ; of common origin, hut not link-
ed to a common fate ; giving ample pledge, that her
name shoidd not he forgotten, that her language should
not cease to he used among men ; that whatsoever
she had done for human knowledge and human happi-
ness, should be treasured up and |)reserved ; that the
record of her existence, and her achievements, should
not he obscured, although, in the inscrutable purposes
of Providence, it might be her destiny to fall from
opidence and splendour ; although the time might come,
when darkness should settle on all her hills; when
foreign or domestic violence should overturn her altars
and her temples ; when ignorance and desj)otisii» should
fill the places where Laws, and Arts, and Liberty had
flourished ; when the feet of barbarism should trample
on the tombs of her consuls, and the walls of her
senate house and forum echo only to the voice of
savage triumph. She saw not this glorious vision, to
inspire and fortify her against the possible decay or
downfal of her power. Happy are they, who in our
day may behold it, if they shall contemplate it with the
sentiments which it ought to inspire!

The New-England colonies differ quite as widely
from the Asiatic establishments of the modern Europe-
an Nations, as from the models of the Ancient States.
The sole object of those establishments was originally
trade ; although we have seen, ia one of them, the
anomaly of a mere trading company attaining a politi-
cal character, disbursing revenues, and maintaining ar-
mies and fortresses, until it has extended its control
over seventy millions of people. Differing from these and
still differing more from the New-England and North
American Colonies, are the European settlements in the
West India Islands. It is not strange, that when men's
minds were turned to the settlement of America, different

objects should be proposed by those who emigrated to
the different reoions of so vast a country. Climate, soil,
and condition were not all equally favourable to all pur-
suits. In the West Indies, the purpose of those who went
thither, was to engage in that species of agriculture,
suited to the soil and climate, which seems to bear more
resemblance to commerce, than to the hard and plain til-
lage of New-Eiigland. The great staples of these coun-
tries, being partly an agricultural and partly a manufac-
tured product, and not being of the necessaries of life,
become the object of calculation, with respect to a pro-
fitable investment of capital, like any other enterprise
of trade or manufacture ; and more especially, as they
require, by necessity or habit, slave labour for their
production, the capital necessary to carry on the ivork
of this production is more considerable. The West
Indies are resorted to, therefore, rather for the invest-
ment of capital, than for the purpose of sustaining life
by personal labour. Such as possess a considerable
amount of capital, or such as choose to adventure in
commercial speculations without capital, can alone be
fitted to be emigrants to the islands. The agriculture
of these regions, as before observed, is a sort of com-
merce ; and it is a species of employment, in which
labour seems to form an inconsiderable ingredient in the
productive causes ; since the portion of white labour is
exceedingly small, and slave labour is rather more like
profit on stock, or capital, than labour properly so cal-
led. The individual who contemplates an establish-
ment of this kind, takes into the account the cost of the
necessary number of slaves, in the same manner as he
calculates the cost of the land. The uncertainty, too,
of this species of employment, afifords another ground
of resemblance to commerce. Although gainful, on
the whole, and in a series of years, it is often very dis-
astrous for a single year, and as the capital is not readi-
ly invested in other pursuits, bad crops, or bad markets,
not only affect the profits, but the capital itself. Hence

the sudden depressions which take place in the value
of such estates.

But the great and leading observation, relative to
these establishments, remains to be made. It is, that
the owners ot" the soil and of the capital seldom con-
sider themselves at home in the colony. A very great
portion of the -.soil itself is usually owned in the moth-
er country ; a still greater is mortgaged for capital ob-
tained there ; and, in general, those who are to derive
an interest from the products, look to the parent comi-
try as the place for enjoyment of their wealth. The
population is therefore constantly fluctuating. Nobody
comes but to return. A constant succession of owners,
agents, and factors takes place. Whatsoever the soil,
forced by the unmitigated toil of slavery, can yield, is
borne home to defray rents, and interest, and agencies ;
or to give the means of living in a better society. In
such a state, it is evident that no spirit of permanent
improvement is likely to spring up. Profits will not
be invested with a distant view of benefiting pnsterity.
Roads and canals will hardly be built ; schools will not
be founded ; colleges will not be endowed. There will
be few fixtures in society ; no principles of utility or of
elegance, planted now, with the hope of being develop-
ed and expanded hereafter. Profit, immediate profit,
must be the principal active spring in the social system.
There may be many particular exceptions to these gen-
eral remarks, but the outline of the whole, is such as is
here drawn.

Another most important consequence of such a state
of things is, that no idea of independence of the pa-
rent country is likely to arise ; unless indeed it should
spring up in a form, that would threaten universal deso-
lation. The inhabitants have no strong attachment to
the place which they inhabit. The hope of a great
portion of them is to leave it ; and their great desire.
to leave it soon. However useful they may be to the
parent state, how much soever they may add to the con-
veniences and luxuries of life, these colonies are not af-

voured spots for the expansion of the human mind,
for the progress of permanent improvement, or for sow-
ing the seeds of future inclepen(h'nt em[)ire.

Dift'erent, in(U^(Hl, most uidely different, from all
these instanees of emigration and phuilation, \Aere the
condition, the purposes, and tlic prospects of our Fath-
ers, when they established their infant colony upon this
spot. Thej came hither to a land from which they
were never to return. Hither they had brought, and
here they were to fix, their hopes, their attachments,
and their objects. Some natural tears they shed, as
they left the pleasant abodes of their fathers, and
some emotions thev suj)pressed, when the white cliffs of
their native country, now seen for the last time, grew
dim to their sight. They were acting however upon
a resolution not to be changed. With \a hatever stifled
regrets, with whatever occasional hesitation, with
whatever apj)alling ap|)rehensi<>ns, which migiit some-
times arise with force lo shake the firmest purpose, they
had yet committed themselves to heaven and the ele-
ments; and a thousand leagues of water soon interpos-
ed to separate them forever from the region which
gave them birth. A new existence awaited them here ;
and when they saw these shores, rough, cold, barba-
rous, and barren as then they were, tliey beheld their
country. That mixed and strong feeling, which we
call love of country, and which is, in general, never
extinguished in the heart of man, grasped and embrac-
ed its proper object here. Whatever constitutes country^
except the earth and the sun, all (he moral causes of
affection and attachment, which operate upon the heart,
they had brought with them to their new abode. fJero
were now their families and friends; their homes, and their
property. Before they reached the shore, they had estab-
lished the elements ot' a social systen), ami at a much ear-
lier period had settled their forms of religious worshi|).
At the moment of their landing, therefore, they possessed
institutions of government, and institutions of religion:
and friends and families, and social and religious insti-

tutions, established by consent, founded on choice and
preference, how nearly do these fill up our whole idea
of country ! — The morning that beamed on the first
night of their repose, saw the Pilgrims already estab-
lished in their country. There were political institu-
tions, and civil liberty, and religious worship. Poetry
has fancied nothing, in the wanderings of heroes, so
distinct and characteristic. Here was man, indeed, un-
protected, and unprovided for, on the shore of a rude
and fearful wilderness; but it was politic, intelligent
and educated man. Every thing was civilized but the
physical world. Institutions containing in substance
all that ages had done for human government, were es-
tablished in a forest. Cultivated mind was to act on
uncultivated nature ; and, more thaji all, a government,
and a country, were to commence, with the very first
foundations laid under the divine light of the christian
religion. Happy auspices of a happy futurity ! Who
would wish, that his country's existence had otherwise
begun ? — Who would desire the power of going back
to the ages of fable ? Who would wish for an origin,
obscured in the darkness of antiquity ? — Who would
wish for other emblazoning of his country's heraldry,
or other ornaments of her genealogy, than to be able
to say, that her first existence was with intelligence ;
her first breath the inspirations of liberty ; her first
principle the truth of divine religion ?

Local attachments and sympathies would ere long
spring up in the breasts of our ancestors, endearing to
them the place of their refuge. Whatever natural ob-
jects are associated with interesting scenes and high
efforts, obtain a hold on human feeling, and demand
from the heart a sort of recognition and regard. This
Rock soon became hallowed in the esteem of the Pil-
grims, and these hills grateful to their sight. Neither
they nor their children were again to till the soil of
England, nor again to traverse the seas which surround-
ed her. But here was a new sea, now open to their
enterprise, and a new soil, which had not failed to re-

spond gratefully to their laborious industry, and which
was already assuming a robe of verdure. Hardly had
they provided shelter for the living, ere they were sum-
moned to erect sepulchres for the dead. The ground
had become sacred, by enclosinjj the remains of some
of their companions and connexions. A parent, a child,
a husband or a wife, had gone the way of all flesh, and
mingled with the dust of New-England. We natural-
ly look with strong emotions to the spot, though it be
a wilderness, where the ashes of those we have loved
repose. Where the heart has laid down what it loved
most, it is desirous of laying itself down. No sculp-
tured marble, no enduring monument, no honourable
inscription, no ever burning taper that would drive away
the darkness of death, can soften our sense of the re-
ality of mortality, and hallow to our feelings the ground
which is to cover us, like the consciousness that we
shall sleep, dust to dust, with the objects of our affec-
tions.

In a short time other causes sprung up to bind the
Pilgrims with new cords to their chosen land. Chil-
dren were born, and the hopes of future generations
arose, in the spot of their new habitation. The second
generation found this the land of their nativity, and
saw that they were bound to its fortunes. They be-
held their father's graves around them, and while they
read the memorials of their toils and labours, they re-
joiced in the inheritance which they found bequeathed
to them.

Under the influence of these causes, it was to be
expected, that an interest and a feeling should arise
here, entirely different from the interest and feeling of
mere Englishmen ; and all the subsequent history of
the colonies proves this to have actually and gradually
taken place. With a general acknowledgment of the
supremacy of the British crown, there was, from the
first, a repugnance to an entire submission to the
control of J3ritish legislation. The colonies stood upon
their charters, which as they contended, exempted

them from the ordinary power of the British parliament,
and authorized them to conduct their own concerns
hy their oun councils. They utterly resisted the rio-
tion that thev were to be ruled hy the mere authority
of the government at home, and would not endure
even that their own charter governments should be
established on the other side of the Atlantic. It was
not a controling; or protecting board in England, but a
government of their own, and existing immedi »tely
within their limits, which could satisfy their wishes.
It was easy to foresee, what we know also to h ve
happened, that the first great cause of collision and
jealousy would be, under the notion of political econo-
my then and still prevalent in Europe, an attempt on
the part of the mother country to monopolize the trade
of the colonies. Whoever has looked deeply into
the causes which produced our revohition, has found,
if I mistake not, the original principle far back in this
claim, on the part of England, to monopolize our trade,
and a continued effort on the part of the colonies to
resist or evade that monopoly ; if indeed it be not still
more just and philosophical to go farther back, and to
consider it decided, that ati independent government
must arise here, the momcFit it was ascertained that an
English colony, such as landed in this place, could
sustain itself against the dangers which surrounded it,
and, with other similar establishments, overspread the
land with an English population. Accidental causes
retarded at times, and at times accelerated the progress
of the controversy. The colonies wanted strength,
and time gave it to them. They required measures of
strong and palpable injustice on the part of the mother
country, to justify resistance ; the early part of the late
King's reign furnished them. They needed spirits of
high order, of great daring, of long foresight and of
commanding power, to seize the favouring occasion to
strike a blow, which should sever, forever, the tie of
colonial dependence ; and these spirits were found, in
all the extent which that or any crisis could demand, itj

Otis, Adams, Hancock, and the other immediate au-
thors of our independence. Still it is true, that for a
centurj, causes had been in operation tending to prepare
thiujis for this great result. In the year 1660 the
English act of Navigation was passed ; the first and
grand obj^'Ct of which seems to have been to secure to
England the whole trade with her plantations. It was
provided, by th.it art, that none but l^^nglish ships
should transport American produce over the ocean ;
and that the principal articles of that produce should be
allowed to be sold oidy in the markets of the mother
couMtry. Three years afterwards another law was
passed, which enacted, that such commodities as the
colonies niight wish to purchase, should be bought
only in the markets of the mother country. Severe
rules were prescribed to enforce the provisions of these
laws, and heavy penalties imposed on all who should
violate them. In the snbsetjuent years of the same
reign, other stiitutes were passed, to reinforce these
statutes, and other rules prescribed, to secure a compli-
ance with these rules. In this manner was the trade,
to and from the colonies, tied up, almost to the exclu-
sive advantage of the parent coimtry. But laws, which
rendered the interest of a whole people subordinate to
that of another people, were not likely to execute
themselves ; nor was it easy to find many on the spot,
who could be depended upon for carrying them into
execution. In fact, these laws were more or less
evaded, or resisted, in all the colonies. To enforce
them was the constant endeavour of the government at
home ; to prevent or elude their operation, the perpetual
object here. " The laws of navigation," says a living
British writer, " were no where so opeidy disobeyed
and contemned, as in New-England. " " The People
of Massachusetts Bay," he adds, " were from the first
disposed to act as if independent of the mother country,
and having a Governor and magistrates of their own
choice, it was difficult to enforce any regulation which
came from the English parliament, adverse to their in-

terests." To provide more effectually for the execution
of these laws, we know that courts of admiralty were
afterwards established by the crown, with power to try
revenue causes, as questions of admiralty, upon the con-
struction, given by the crown lawyers, to an act of
parliament ; — a great departure from the ordinary prin-
ciples of English jurisprudence, but which has been
maintained, nevertheless, by the force of habit and
precedent, and is adopted in our own existing systems
of government.

" There lie," says another English writer, whose
connexion with the Board of Trade has enabled him
to ascertain many facts connected with colonial history,
— " There lie among the documents in the board of
trade and paper office, the most satisfactory proofs,
from the epoch of the English revolution in 1688,
throughout every reign, and during every administra-
tion, of the settled purpose of the colonies to acquire
direct independence and positive sovereignty." Perhaps
this may be stated somewhat too strongly ; but it cannot
be denied, that from the very nature of the establish-
ments here, and from the general character of the mea-
sures respecting their concerns, early adopted, and
steadily pursued by the English government, a division
of the empire was the natural and necessary result to
which every thing tended.

I have dwelt on this topic, because it seems to me,
that the peculiar original character of the New-England
colonies, and certain causes coeval with their existence,
have had a strong and decided influence on all their
subsequent history, and especially on the great event of
the Revolution. Whoever would write our history, and
would understand and explain early transactions, should
comprehend the nature and force of the feeling which
I have endeavoured to describe. As a son, leaving the
house of his father for his own, finds, by the order of
nature, and the very law of his being, nearer and dearer
objects around which his affections circle, while his at-
tachment to the parental roof becomes moderated, by

dej^rees, to a compospd reg;ard, and an affectionate rc-
memlirHnoe ; so our ancestors, leaving their native land,
not without so\ne violence to the feelings of nature and
affection, vet in time found here, a new circle of engage-
ments, interests, and aflections ; a feelino-, which more
and more enrroaehed upon the old, till an undivided
sentiment, that this was their country^ occupied the
heart; and patriotism, shutting out from its embraces
the parent realm, became local to America.

Some retrospect of the century w^hich has now elaps-
ed, is among the duties of the occasion. It must, how-
ever, necessarily be imperfect, to be compressed within
the limits of a single discourse. I shall content myself,
therefore, with taking notice of a few of the leading,
and most important, occurrences, which have distin-
guished the period.

When the lirst century closed, the progress of the
"country appeared to have been considerable ; notwith-
standing that, in comparison with its subsequent ad-
vancement, it novi^ seems otherwise. A broad and
lasting foundation had been laid : excellent institutions
had been established ; much of the prejudices of former
times had become removed ; a more liberal and catholic
spirit on subjerts of religious concern had begun to
extend itself, and many things conspired to give promise
of increasing future prosperity. Great men had arisen
in public life and the liberal professions. The Mathers,
father and son, were then sinking low in the western
horizon ; Leverett, the learned, the accomolished, the
excellent Leverett, was about to withdraw his brilliant
and useftd light. In Pemberton, great hopes had been
suddenly extinguished, but Prince and Col man, were
in our sky ; and the crepuscular light had begun to
flash along the East, of a great luminary which was
about to appeai* ; and which was to mark the age with
his own name, as the age of Franklin.

The bloody Indian wars, which harrassed the people
for a part of the first century ; the restrictions on the
trade of the Colonies — added to the discouragements in-

herently belongirijs; to all forms of colonial government;
the distance from Europe, and the small hope of imme-
diate profit to adventurers, are among the causes which
had contributed to retard the progress of population.
Perhaps it may be added, also, that during the period of
the civil wars in England, and the reign of Cromwell,
many persons, whose religious opinions and religious
temper might, under other circumstances have induced
them to join the New England colonists, found reasons
to remain in England ; either on account of active occu-
pation in the scenes which were passing, or of an anti-
cipation of the enjoyment, in their own country, of a
form of government, civil and religious, accommodated
to their views and principles. The violent measures, too,
pursued against the Colonies in the reign of Charles the
second, the mockery of a trial, and the forfeiture of the
Charters, were serious evils. And during the open vio-
lences of the short reign of James the second, and the
tyranny of Andros,as the venerable historian of Connecti-
cut observes, " All the motives to great actions, to indus-
try, economy, enterprize, wealth, and population, were in
a manner annihilated. A general inactivity and lan-
guishment pervaded the public body. Liberty, property,
and every thing which ought to be dear to men, every
day grew more and more insecure.''''

With the revolution in England, a better prospect had
opened on this country, as well as on that. The joy
had been as great, at that event, and far more universal
in New, than in Old England. A new Charter had been
granted to Massachusetts, which, although it did not
confirm to her inhabitants all their former privileges, yet
relieved them from great evils and embarrassments, and
promised future security. More than all, perhaps, the
revolution in England, had done good to the general
cause of liberty and justice. A blow had been struck,
in favour of the rights and liberties, not of England
alone, but of descendants and kinsmen of England, all
over the world. Great political truths had been estab-
lished. The champions of liberty had been successful

in a fearful and perilous conflict. Somers, and Caven-
dish, and Jekyl, and Howard, had triumphed in one of
the most noble causes ever undertaken by men. A revo-
Jution had been made upon principle. A monarch had
been dethroned, for violating; the original compact be-
tween King and People. The rights of the people to
partake in the government, and to limit the monarch by
fundamental rules of government, had been maintained ;
and however unjust the government of England might
afterwards be, towards otiier governmeiirs or towards
her colonies, she had ceased to be governed herself, by
the arbitrary maxims of the Stuarts.

New-England had submitted to the violence of James
the second, not longer than Old England. Not only
was ir reserved to Massachusetts, that on her soil should
be acted the first scene of that great revohuionary Drama,
which was to take place near a century afterwards, but
the English revolution itself, as far as the Colonies w<^re
concerned, commenced in Boston. A direct and forci-
ble resistance to the authority of James the second, was
the seizure and imprisonment of Andros, in April 1689.
The pulse of Liberty beat as high in the extremities, as
at the heart. The vigorous feeling of the Colony burst
out, before it was known how the parent country would
finally conduct itself. The King's representative, Sir
Edmund Andros, was a prisoner in the Castle at Bos-
ton, before it was or could be known, that the King
himself had ceased to exercise his full dominion on the
English throne.

Before it was known here, whether the invasion of
the Prince of Orange would or could prove successful ;
as soon only as it was known that it had been under-
taken, the people of Massachsetts, at the imminent
hazard of their lives and fortunes, had accomplished
the revolution as far as respected themselves. It is
probable, that, reasoning on general principles, and the
known attachment of the English people to their consti-
tution and liberties, and their deep and fixed dislike of
the King's religion and politics, the people of New-Eng-

land expected a catastrophe fatal to the power of the
reigning Prince. Yet, it was not either certain enough,
or near enough to come to their aid against the authority
of the crown, in that crisis whicli had arrived, and in
which they trusted toput themselves, relyingonGod, and
on their own courage. There were spirits in Massachu-
setts, congenial wit h the spirits of the distinguished friends
of the revolution in England. There were those, who
were fit to associate with the boldest asserters of civil
liberty ; and Mather himself, then in England, was not
unworthy to be ranked with those sons of the church,
whose firmness and spirit, in resisting kingly encroach-
ment in religion, entitled them to the gratitude of their
own and succeeding ages.

The Second Century opened upon New-England
under circumstances, which evinced, that much had al-
ready been accomplished, and that still better prospects,
and brighter hopes, were before her. She had laid,
deep and strong, the foundations of her society. Her
religious principles were firm, and her moral habits
exemplary. Her public schools ha 1 begun to diffuse
widely the elements of knowledge ; and the College,
under the excellent and acceptable administration of
Leverett, had been raised to a high degree of credit and
usefulness.

The commercial character of the country, notwith-
standing all discouragements, had begun to display it-
self, and^ye hundred vessels, then belonging to Massa-
chusetts, placed her in relation to commerce, thus early,
at the head of the colonies. An author who wrote
very near the close of the first century says ; " New-
England is almost deserving that noble name ; so might-
ily hath it increased ; and from a small settlement, at
first, is now become a very populous and jiourishing
government. The capital city, Boston, is a place of
great weakh and trade ; and by much the large?t of fmy
in the English empire of America ; and not exceeded
but by few cities, perhi;«^js two or three, in all the Ameri-
can world.

But, if our ancestors at the close of the first century,
could look back with joy, and even admiration, at the
progress of the country ; what emotions must \\q not
feel, wlien, from tlie point in which we stand, we also
look back and run aions^ the events of tiie century
which has now closed ? The country, which then, as
we have seen, was thoM2;lit deserving of a " noble
name ;" which then had " mightily increased," and be-
come " very populous ;" what was it, in comparison
with what our eyes behold it ? At that period, a very
great proportion of its inhabitants lived in the Eastern
section of Massachusetts proper, and in this colony. In
Connecticut, there were towns along the coast, some of
them respectable, but in the interiour, all was a wilder-
ness beyond Hartford. On Connecticut river, settle-
ments had proceeded as far up as Deerfield, and fort
Dummer had been built, near where is now the South
line of New-Hampshire. In New-Hampshire, no set-
tlement was then begun thirty miles from the mouth
of Piscataqua river, and, in w hat is now Maine, the in-
habitants were confined to the coast. The aggregate
of the whole population of New-England did not ex-
ceed one hundred and sixty thousand. Its present
amount is probably one million seven hundred thousand.
Instead of being confined to its former limits, her popu-
lation has rolled backward and filled up the spaces in-
cluded within her actual local boundaries. Not this
only, but it has overflowed those boundaries, and the
waves of emigration have pressed, farther and farther,
toward the west. The Alleghany has not checked it ;
the banks of the Ohio have been covered with it. New-
England farms, houses, villages, and churches spread
over, and adorn the immense extent from the Ohio to
Lake Erie ; and stretch along, from the Alleghany,
onwards beyond the Miamies, and towards the Falls of
St. Anthony. Two thousand miles westward from
the rock where their fathers landed, may now be found
the sons of the Pilgrims ; cultivating smiling fields,
rearing towns and villages, and cherishing, we trust.

the patrimonial blessings of wise institutions, of libertyj
and religion. The world has seen nothing like this.
Regions large enough to be empires, and which, half a
century ago, were known only as remote and unexplor-
ed wildernesses, are now teeming with population, and
prosperous in all the great concerns of life ; in good
governments, the means of subsistence, and social hap-
piness. It may be safely asserted, that there are now
more than a million of people, descendants of New-
England ancestry, living free and happy, in regions,
which hardly sixty years ago, were tracts of unpenetrat-
ed forest. Nor do rivers, or mountains, or seas resist
the progress of industry and enterprise. Ere long, the
sons of the Pilgrims will be on the sh.ores of the Pa-
cific. The imagination hardly keeps up with the pro-
gress of population, improvement, and civilization.

It is now five and forty years, since the growth and
rising glory of America were portrayed, in the English
parliament, with inimitable beauty, by the most con-
summate orator of modern times. Going back some-
what more than half a century, and describing our pro-
gress, as foreseen, from that point, by his amiable friend
Lord Bathurst, then living, he spoke of the wonderful
progress which America had made, during the period
of a single human life. There is no American heart,
I imagine, that does not glow, both with conscious
patriotic pride, and admiration for one of the happiest
efforts of eloquence, so often as the vision, of " that
little speck, scarce visible in the mass of national in-
terest, a small seminal principle, rather than a formed
body," and the progress of its astonishing development
and growth, are recalled to the recollection. But a
stronger feeling might be produced, if we were able to
take up this prophetic description where he left it ; and
placing ourselves at the point of time in which he was
speaking, to set forth with equal felicity, the subsequent
progress of the country. There is yet among the liv-
ing:, a most distinguished and venerable name, a descen-
dant ot the Pilgrims : one who has been attended

through life by a great and fortunate genius ; a man
ilhistrlous by his own great mtMits, and favoured of
Heaven in the Um'^ continuation of his years. The
time wlien the English orator was tlius speaking of
America, j)receded, hut by a few days, the actual open-
ing of the revohitionary Drama at Lexington. He to
whom 1 have alhided, then at the aijc of forty, was
among the most zealous and able defenders of the violat-
ed rights of his country. He seemed already to have fil-
led a full measure of public service, and attained an
honourable fame. The moment was full of ciifticulty
and danger, and big with events of immeasurable im-
portance. The country was on the very brink of a
civil war, of which no man could foretel the duration
or the result. Something more than a courageous hope,
or characteristic ardour, would have been necessary to
im|)ress the glorious prospect on his belief, if, at that
moment, before the sound of the first shock of actual
war had reached his ears, some attendant sj)irit had
opened to him the vision of the future ; if it had said
to him, " The blow is struck, and America is severed
from England forever !" if it had ijiformed him, that
he himself, the next annual revolution of the sun,
should |)ut his own hand to the great Instrument of In-
dej)endence, and write his name where all nations
should behold it, and all time should not efface it ; that
ore long he himself should maintain the interest and
respresent the sovereignty of his new-born country,
in the proudest courts of Europe; that he should one
day exercise her supreme magistracy ; that he should
yet live to behold ten millions of fellow citizens paying
him the homage of their deepest gratitude and kindest
affections; that he should see distinguished talent and
high public trust resting where his name rested ; that
lie should even see with his own unclouded eyes, the
close of the second century of New-England ; he who
had begun life almost with its commencement, and lived
through nearly half the whole history of his country ;
and that on t!ie morning of this auspicious day, he,

should be found In the political councils of his native
state, revising, by the light of experience, that system
of government, which forty years before he had assist-
ed to frame and establish ; and great and happy as he
should then behold his country, there should be nothing
in prospect to cloud the scene, nothing to check the ar-
dour of that confident and patriotic hope, which should
glow in his bosom to the end of his long protracted
and happy life.

It would far exceed the limits of this discourse, even
to mention the principal events in the civil and political
history of New-England during the century ; the more
so, as for the last half of the period, that history has
been, most happily, closely interwoven with the general
history of the United States. New-England bore an
honourable part in the wars which took place between
England and France. The capture of Louisbourg gave
her a character for military achievement ; and in the
war which terminated with the peace of 1763, her
exertions on the frontiers were of most essential service
as well to the mother country as to all the colonies.

In New-England the war of the revolution com-
menced. I address those who remember the memo-
rable l9th of April 1775; who shortly after saw the
burning spires of Charlestown ; who beheld the deeds
of Prescott, and heard the voice of Putnam amidst the
storm of war, and saw the generous Warren fall, the
first distinguished victim in the cause of liberty. It
would be superfluous to say, that no portion of the
country did more than the states of New-England, to
bring the revolutionary struggle to a successful issue.
It is scarcely less to her credit, that she saw early the
necessity of a closer union of the states, and gave an
efficient and indispensible aid to the establishment and
organization of the federal government.

Perhaps we might safely say,thata new spirit, and a
new excitement began to exist here, about the middle of
the last century. To whatever causes it may be imput-
ed, there seems then to have commenced a more rapid
improvement. The colonies had attracted more of the

attention of the mother country, and some renown in
arms had been acquired. Lord Chatham was the first
English minister who attached high importance to
these possessions of the crown, and who foresaw any-
thing of their future growth and extension. His opin-
ion was, that the great rival of Enghtnd was chiefly
to be feared as a maritime and commercial power,
and to drive her out of North America and deprive
her of her West India possessions, was a leading object
in his policy. He dwelt often on the fisheries as
nurseries for British seamen, and the colonial trade as
furnishing them employment. The war, conducted by
him with so much vigour, terminated in a peace, by
which Canada was ceded to England. The effect of
this was immediately visible in the New-England colo-
nies ; for the fear of Indian hostilities on the frontiers
being now happily removed, settlements went on with
an activity before that time altogether unprecedented,
and public affairs wore a new and encouraging aspect.
Shortly after this fortunate termination of the French
war, the interesting topics connected with the taxation
of America by the British Parliament began to be
discussed, and the attention and all the faculties of the
people drawn towards them. There is perhaps no
portion of our history more full of interest than the
period from 1760 to the actual commencement of the
war. The progress of opinion, in this period, though
less known, is not less important, than the progress of
arms afterwards. Nothing deserves more consideration
than those events and discussions which affected the
public sentiment, and settled the Revolution in men's
minds, before hostilities openly broke out.

Internal improvement followed the establishment, and
prosperous commencement, of the present government.
More has been done for roads, canals, and other public
works, within the last thirty years, than in all our
former history. In the first of these particulars, few
countries excel the New-England States. The aston-
ishing increase of their navigation and trade is known

to every one, and now belongs to the hist^i^ry of our ri&-
tional wealth.

We may flatter ourselves, too, that literatv^re and taste
have not been stationary, and that some advancement
has been made in the elegant, as well as in the useful
arts.

The nature and constitution of society and govern-
ment in this country, are interesting topics, lo which I
would devote what remains of the time allowed to this
occasion. Of our system of government, the first thing
to be said, is, that it is really and practically a free sys-
tem. It originates entirely with the people, and rests
on no other foundation than their assent. To judge of
its actual operation, it is not enough to look merely at
the form of its construction. The practical character of
government depends often on a variety of considerations,
besides the abstract frame of its constitutional organiza-
tion. Among these, are the condition and tenure of
property ; the laws regulating its alienation and descent ;
the presence or absence of a military power ; an armed
or unarmed yeomanry ; the spirit of the age, and the
degree of general intelligence. In these respects it can-
not be denied, that the circumstances of this country are
most favourable to the hope of maintaining the govern-
ment of a great nation on principles entirely popular. In
the absence of military power, the nature of government
must essentially depend on the manner in which proper-
ty is holden and distributed. There is a natural influ-
ence belonging to property, whether it exists in many
hands or few ; and it is on the rights of property, that
both despotism and unrestrained popular violence ordi-
narily commence their attacks. Our ancestors began
their system of government here, under a condition of
comparative equality in regard to wealth, and their ear-
ly laws were of a nature to favour and continue this
equality.* A republican form of government rests, not

* The contents of several of the following pages will be found also in the
printed account of the proceedings of the Massachusetts convention, in some re-
marks made by the author a few days before the delivery of this discourse. As
those remarks were originally written for this discourse, it was thought proper
not to omit them, in the publication, notwithstanding this circumstance.

more on political Constitutions, than on those laws
which regulate the descent and transmission of proper-
ty.— Governments like ours could not have been main-
tained, where property was holden according to the
principles of the feudal system ; nor, on the other hand,
could the feudal Constitution possibly exist with us.
Our New-England ancestors brought hither no great
capitals from Europe ; and if tiiey had, there was
nothing productive, in which they could have been in-
vested. They left behind them the whole feudal policy
of the other continent. They broke away, at once,
from the system of military service, established in the
dark ages, and which continues, down even to the pre-
sent time, more or less to affect the condition of proper-
ty all over Europe. They came to a new country.
There were, as yet, no lands yielding rent, and no ten-
ants rendering service. The whole soil was unreclaim-
ed from barbarism. They were themselves, either from
their original condition, or from the necessity of their
common interest, nearly on a g(>neral level, in respect
to property. Their situation demanded a parcelling
out and division of the lands ; and it may be fairly
said, that this necessary net fixed the future frame and
form of their government. The character of their
political institutions was determined by the fundamen-
tal laws respecting property. The laws rendered es-
tates divisible among sons and daughters. The right
of primogeniture, at first limited and curtailed, was
afterwards abolished. The property was all freehold.
The entailment of estates, long trusts, and the other
processes for fettering and tying up inheritances, were
not applicable to the conditit>n of society, and seldom
made use of. On the contrary, alienation of the land
was every way facilitated, even to the subjecting of it
to every species ol' debt. The establishment of public
registries, and the simplicity of our forms of convey-
ance, have greatly facilitated the change of real estate,
from one propri(Uor to another. The consequence of
all these causes has been, a great subdivision of the soil,

and a g;reat equality of condition ; the true basis most
certainly of a popular government. — " If the peo|)le,"
says Harrington, " hold three parts in four of the terri-
tory, it is plain there can neither be any single person
nor nobility able to dispute the government with them ;
in this case therefore, except force be interposed, they
govern themselves."

The history of other nations may teach us how fa-
vourable to public liberty is the division of the soil into
small freeholds, and a system of laws, of which the
tendency is, without violence or injustice, to produce
and to preserve a degree of equality of property. It
has been estimated, if I mistake not, that about the
time of Henry the VU., four fifths of the land in Eng-
land, was holden by the great barons and ecclesiastics.
The effects of a growing commerce soon afterwards
began to break in on this state of things, and before
the revolution in 1688 a vast change had been wrought.
It may be thought probable, that, for the last half
century, the process of subdivision in England, has
been retarded, if not reversed; that the great weight
of taxation has compelled many of the lesser freehol-
ders to dispose of their estates, and to seek employment
in the army and navy ; in the professions of civil life ;
in commerce or in tl»e colonies. The effect of this on
the British Constitution cannot but be most unfavoura-
ble. A few large estates grow larger ; but the number
of those who have no estates also increases ; and there
may be danger, lest the inequality of property become
so great, that those who possess it may be dispossessed
by force ; in other words, that the government may be
overturned.

A most interesting experiment of the effect of a sub-
division of property on government, is now making in
France. It is understood, that the law regulating the
transmission of property, in that country, now divides
It, real and personal, among all the children, equally,
both sons and daughters; and that there is, also, a very
great restraint on the power of making dispositions of
property by will. It has been supposed, that the effects
of this might probably be, in time, to break up the soil

into such small subdivisions, that the proprietors would
be too poor to resist the encroachments of executive
power. I think far otherwise. What is lost in indi-
vidual wealth, will be more than gained, in nunibers,
in intelligence, and in a sympathy of sentiment. If in-
deed, only one, or a ie\w landholders were to resist the
crown, like the barons of England, they must, of
course, be great and powerful landholders whh multi-
tudes of retainers, to promise success. But if the pro-
prietors of a given extent of territory are summoned to
resistance, there is no reason to believe that such resist-
ance would be less forcible, or less successful, because
the number of such proprietors should be great. Each
would perceive his own importance, and his own inter-
est, and would feel that natural elevation of character
which the consciousness of property inspires. A common
sentiment would unite all, and munbers would not only
add strength, but excite enthusiasm. It is true, that
France possesses a vast military force, under the direc-
tion of an hereditary executive government ; and mili-
tary power, it is possible, may overthrow any govern-
ment. It is, in vain, however, in this period of the
world, to look for security against military power, to
the arm of the great landholders. That notion is de-
rived from a state of things long since past ; a state in
which a feudal baron, with his retainers, might stand
against the sovereign, who was himself but the greatest
baron, and his retainers. But at present, what could
the richest landholder do, against one regiment of dis-
ciplined troops ? Other securities, therefore, against the
prevalence of military power must be provided. Hap-
pily for us, we are not so situated as that any purpose
of national defence requires, ordinarily and constantly^
such a military force as might seriously endanger our
liberties.

In respect, however, to the recent law of succession
in France, to which I have alluded, I would, presump-
tuously perhaps, hazard a conjecture, that if the go-
vernment do not change the law, the law, in half a cen-
tury, will change the government ; and that tliis change
will be not in favour of the power of the crown, as

some European writers have supposed ; but against it.
Those writers only reason upon what they think cor-
rect general principles, in relation to this subject. They
acknowledge a want of experience. Here we have
had that experience ; and we know that a multitude of
small proprietors, acting with intelligence, and that en-
thusiasm which a common cause inspires, constitute not
only a formidable, but an invincible power.

The true principle of a free and popular government
would seem to be, so to construct it, as to give to all,
or at least to a very great majority, an interest in its
preservation : to found it, as other things are founded,
on men's interest. The stability of government requires
that those who desire its continuance should be more
powerful than those who desire its dissolution. This
power, of course, is not always to be measured by mere
numbers. — Education, wealth, talents, are all parts and
elements of the general aggregate of power; but num-
bers, nevertheless, constitute ordinarily the most impor-
tant consideration, unless indeed there be a military
force^ in the hands of the few, by which they can
control the many. In this country we have actually ex-
isting systems of government, in the maintenance of
which, it should seem, a great majority, both in numbers
and in other means of power and influence, must see
' their interest. But this state of things is. not brought
about solely by written political constitutions, or the
mere manner of organizing the government; but also
by the laws which regulate the descent and transmission
of property. The freest government, if it could exist,
would not be long acceptable, if the tendency of the laws
were to create a rapid accumulation of property in few
hands, and to render the great mass of the population
dependent and pennyless. In such a case, the popular
power would be likely to break in upon the rights of
property, or else the influence of property to limit
and control the exercise of popular power. — Universal
suffrage, for example, could not long exist in a commu-
nity, where there was great inequality of property. The
holders of estates would be obliged in such case, either,
in some way, to restrain the right of suffrage ; or else

such right of sul'fnige would, long before, divide the
proj)erty. In the nature of things, those who have not
jironerty, and see their neighbours possess much more
than they think them to need, cannot be favourabhi to
laws made for the protection of property. When this
class becomes numerous, it grows clamorous. It looks
on j)roperty as its prey and plunder, and is naturally
ready, at all times, for violence and revolution.

It" would seem, then, to be the part of political wis-
dom, to found government on property ; and to estab-
lish such disiribution of property, by the laws which
reoulate its transmission and alienation, as to interest the
great majority of society in the support of the govern-
ment. This is, I imagine, the true theory and the
actual practice of our republican institutions. With
property divided, as we have it, no other government
than (hat of a republic could be maintained, even were
we foolish enough to desire it. There is reason, there-
f(»re, to expect a long continuance of our systems.
Party and passion, doubtless, may prevail at times, and
much temporary mischief be done. Even modes and
forms may be changed, and perhaps for the worse.
But a great revolution, in regard to property, must take
place, before our governments can be moved from their
republican basis, unless they be violently struck off by
military power. The people possess the property, more
emphatically than it could ever be said of the people of
any other country, and they can have no interest to
overturn a government which protects that property by
equal laws.

Let it not be supposed, that this state of things pos-
sesses too strong tendencies towards the production of a
dead and uninteresting level in society. Su( h tenden-
cies are sufficiently counteracted by the infinite diversi-
ties in the characters and fortunes of individuals.
Talent, activity, industry, acd enterprize tend at all
times to produce inequality and distinction ; and there is
room still for the accumulation of wealth, with its great
advantages, to all reasonable and useful extent. -It has
been often urged against the state of society in America,
that it furnishes no class of men of fortune and leisure.

This may be partly true, but it is not entirely so, and the
evil, if it be one, would affect rather the progress of taste
and literature, than the general prosperity of the people.
But the promotion of taste and literature cannot be pri-
mary objects of political institutions; and if they could,
it might be doubted, whether, in the long course of
things, as much is not gained by a wide diffusion of
general knowledge, as is lost by abridging the number
of those whom fortune and leisure enable to devote them-
selves exclusively to scientific and literary pursuits.
However this may be, it is to be considered that it is the
spirit of our system to be equal, and general, and if there
be particular disadvantages incident to this, they are
far more than counterbalanced by the benefits which
weigh against them. The important concerns of socie-
ty are generally conducted, in all countries, by the men
of business and practical ability ; and even in matters of
taste and literature, the advantages of mere leisure are
liable to be over-rated. If there exist adequate means
of education, and the love of letters be excited, that love
will find its way to the object of its desire, through the
crowd and pressure of the most busy society.

Connected with this division of property, and the
consequent participation of the great mass of people, in
its possession and enjoyments, is the system of repre-
sentation, which is admirably accommodated to our
condition, better understood among us, and more fami-
liarly and extensively practised, in the higher and in
the lower departments of government, than it has been
with any other people. Great facility has been given
to this in New-England by the early division of the
country into townships or small districts, in which all
concerns of local police are regjilated, and in which
representatives to the Legislature are elected. Nothing
can exceed the utility of these little bodies. Tiicy are
so many Councils, or Parliaments, in which common
interests are discussed, and useful knowledge acquired
and communicated.

The division of governments into departments, and
the division, again, of the legislative department into
two chambers, are essential provisions in our systems.

riiis last, altlioiigli not new in itself, jet seems to be
new in its application to governments wiioliy popular.
The Grecian Republics, it is plain, knew nothing of it;
and in Rome, the check and balance of legislative
power, such as it was, lay between the People and the
Senate. Indeed few things are more difficult than to
ascertain accurately the true nature and construction of
the Roman Commonwealth. The relative power of
the senate and the people, the Consuls and the Tribunes,
appears not to have been at all times the same, nor at
any time accurately defined or strictly observed. Cice-
ro, indeed, describes to us an adniirable arrangement
of political power, and a balance of the constitution, in
that beautiful passage, in which he compares the demo-
cracies of Greece with the Roman Commonwealth.
" O moron praeclarum, disciplinamque, quam a rnajori-
bus accepimus, si quidem teneremus ! sed nescio quo
pacto jam de manibus elabitur. Nullam enim illi nostri
sapientissimi et sanctisslmi viri vim concionis esse volue-
Tunt, quae scisseret plebs, aut quae populus juberet;
summota condone, distributis paitibus, tributim., et cen-
turiatim, descriptis ordiiiibus, classibus. ceiaiibus, auditis
aiidoribus, re multos dies promulgata et cognita, juberi
vetarique voluerunt. Graecorum autem totae respublicae
sedentis concionis temeritate administraniiir.^^

But at what time this wise system existed in this per-
fection at Rome, no proofs remain to show. Her con-
stitution, originally framed for a monarchy, never
seemed to be adjusted, in its several parts, after the ex-
pulsion of the kings. Liberty there was, but it was a
disputatious, an uncertain, an ill-secured liberty. The
patrician and plebeian orders, instead of being matched
and joined, each in its just place and proportion, to
sustain the fabric of the state, were rather like hostile
powers, in perpetual conflict. With us, an attempt has
been made, and so far jiot without success, to divide
representation into Chambers, and by difference of age,
character, qualification or mode of election, to establish
salutary checks, in governments altogether elective.

Having detained you so long with these observations,
T must yet advert to another most interesting topic, the

Free Schools. In this particular New-England may
be allowed to claim, I think, a merit of a peculiar
character. She early adopted and has constantly main-
tained the principle, that it is the undoubted right, and
the bounden duty of government, to provide for the in-
struction of all youth. That which is elsewhere left
to chance, or to charity, we secure by law. For the
purpose of public instruction, we hold every man sub-
ject to taxation in proportion to his property, and we
look not to the question, whether he himself have, or
have not, children to b(! benehted by the education for
which he pays. We regard it as a wise and liberal
system of police, by which property, and life, and the
peace of society are secured. We seek to prevent, in
some measure, the extension of the penal code, by in-
spiring a salutary and conservative principle of virtue
and of knowledge in an early age. We hope to excite
a feeling of respectability, and a sense of character, by
enlarging the capacity, and increasing the sphere of in-
tellectual enjoyment. By general instruction, we seek,
as far as possible, to purify the whole moral atmos-
phere ; to keep good sentiments uppermost, and to turn
the strong current of feeling and opinion, as well as
the censures of the law, and the denunciations of re-
ligion, against immorality and crime. We hope for a
security, beyond the law, and above the law, in the
prevalence of enlightened and well principled moral
sentiment. We hope to continue and prolong the time,
when, in the villages and farm houses of New-Eng-
land, there may be undisturbed sleep within unbarred
doors. And knowing that our government rests direct-
ly on the public will, that we may preserve it, we en-
deavour to give a safe and proper direction to tliat pub-
lic will. We do not, indeed, expect all men to be
philosophers or statesmen ; but we confidently trust,
and our expectation of the duration of our system of
government rests on that trust, that by the diffusion of
general knowledge and good and virtuous sentiments,
the political fabric may be secure, as well against open
violence and overthrow, as against the slov.' but ?!nr<^
underminins: of licentiousness.

We know, that at the present time, an attempt is
making in the English Parliament to provide by law
for the education of the poor, and that a gentleman of
distinguished character, (Mr. Brougham) has taken
the lead, in presenting a plan to government for carry-
ing that purpose into effect. And yet, although the
rejM-esentatives of the three kingdoms listened to him
with astonishment as well as delight, we hear no prin-
ciples, with which we ourselves have not been familiar
from youth ; we see nothing in the plan, but an ap-
proach towards that system which has been established
in New-England for more than a century and a half.
It is said that in England, not more than one child in fif-
teen possesses the means of being taught to read and
write ; in Wales, one in twenty ; in France, until lately,
when some improvement has been made, not more than
G7ie in tfdrty-five. Now, it is hardly too strong to say,
that in New- England, every child possesses suvh means.
It would be difficult to find an instance to the contrary,
unless where it should be owing to the negligence of
the parent ; — and in truth the means are actually used
and enjoyed by nearly every one. A youth of fifteen,
of either sex, who cannot both read and write, is very
unfrequcntly to be found. Wlu) can make this com-
parison, or contemplate this spectacle, without delight
and a feeling of just pride? Does any history shew
jn'operty more beneficently applied ? Did any govern-
ment ever subject the property of those who have es-
tates, to a bin\i(;n, for a purpose more favourable to the
poor, or more useful to tiie whole community ?

A conviction of the importance of public instruction
was one of the earliest sentiments of our ancestors.
No lawgiver of ancient or modern times has expressed
more just opinions, or adopted wivser measures, than the
early records of the Colony of Plymoutli show to have
prevailed here. Assembled on this very spot, a hun-
dred and fiftv-three velars ago, the legislature of this
Colony declared ; " For as much as the maintenance
of good literature doth much tend to the advancement
of the weal and flourishing state of Societies and Re-
publics, this Court doth therefore order, that in what-
Gvm- townsliii) in this government, consisting of iiftv

families or upwards, any meet man shall be obtained
to teach a grammar school, such township shall allow*
at least twelve pounds, to be raised by rate, on all the
inhabitants."

Having provided^ that all youth should be instructed
in the elements of learning by the institution of Free
Schools, our ancestors had yet another duty to perform.
Men were to be educated for the professions, and the
public. For this purpose they founded the University,
and with incredible zeal and perseverance they cherish-
ed and supported it, through all trials and discourage-
ments. On the subject of the University, it is not pos-
sible for a son of New-England to think without plea-
sure, nor to speak without emotion. Nothing confers
more honour on the state where it is established, or
more utility on the country at large. A respectable
University is an establishment, which must be the work
of time. If pecuniary means were not w'anting, no
new institution could possess character and respectabili-
ty at once. We owe deep obligation to our ancestors,
who began, almost on the moment of their arrival, the
work of building up this institution.

Although established in a different government, the
Colony of Plymouth manifested warm friendship for
Harvard College. At an early period, its government
took measures to promote a general subscription through-
out all the towns in this Colony, in aid of its small
funds. Other Colleges were subsequently founded and
endowed, in other places, as the ability of the people
allowed ; and we may flatter ocnselves, that the means
of education, at present enjoyed in New-England, are
not only adequate to the diffusion of the elements of
knowledge among all classes, but sufficient also for re-
spectable attainments in literature and the sciences.

Lastly, our ancestors have founded their system ot
government on morality and religious sentiment. Mo-
ral habits, they believed, cannot safely be trusted on
any other foundation than religious principle, nor any
government be secure which is not supported by moral
habits. Living under the heavenly light of revelation^
they hoped to find all the social dispositions, all the
7

duties which men owe to each other, and to society,
enforced and performed. Whatever makes men good
christians, makes them good citizens. Our fathers
came here to enjoy their rehgion free and unmolested ;
and, at the end of two centuries, there is nothing upon
which we can pronounce more confidently, nothing of
which we can express a more deep and earnest con-
viction, than of the inesiimahle importance of that
rehgion to man, both in reg;ird to this life, and that
which is to come.

lithe blessings of our political and social condition
have not now b'^en too highly estimated, we cannot
well over-rate the responsibility and duty which they
impose upon us. We hold these institutions of govern-
ment, religion, and learning, to be transmitted, as well
as enjoyed. We are in the line of conveyance, through
which whatever has been obtained by the spirit and
efforts of our ancestors, is to be communicated to our
children.

We are bound to maintain public liberty, and by the
example of our own systems, to convince the world,
that order, and law, religion, and morality, the rights
of conscience, the rights of persons, and the rights of
property, may all be preserved and secured, in the
most perfect manner, by a government entirely and
purely elective. If we fail in this, our disaster will be
signal, and will furnish an argument, stronger than has
yet been found, in support of those opinions, which
maintain that government can rest safely on nothing
but power and coercion. As far as experience may
show errors in our establishments, we are bound to
correct them ; and if any practices exist, contrary to the
principles of justice and humanity, within the reach of
our laws or our influence, we are inexcusable if we do
not exert ourselves to restrain and abolish them.

I deem it my duty on this occasion to suggest, that
the land is not wholly free from the contamination of a
traffic, at which every feeling of humanity must forever
revolt — I mean the African slave trade. Neither public
sentiment, nor the law, has hitherto been able entirely
to put an end to this odious and abominable trade. At
lhe_mojment when God, in his mercy, has blessed the

Christian world with an universal peace, there is reason
to fear, that to the disgrace of the Christian name and
character, new efforts are making for the extension of
this trade, by subjects and citizens of Christian states,
in whose hearts no sentiment of humanity or justice
inhabits, and over wUom neither the fear of God nor
the fear of man exercises a control. In the sight of
our law, the African slave trader is a pirate and a
felon ; and in the sio:ht of heaven, an offender far
beyond the ordinary depth of human guilt. There is
no brighter part of our history, than that which records
the measures which have been adopted by the govern-
ment, at an early day, and at different times since, for
the suppression of this traffic; and I would call on all
the true sons of New-England, toco-operate with the
laws of man, and the justice of heaven. If there be,
within the extent of our knowledge or influence, any
participation in this traffic, let us pledge ourselves here,
upon the Rock of Plymouth, to extirpate and destroy
it. It is not fit, that the land of the Pilgrims should
bear the shame longer. I hear the sound of the ham-
mer, I see the smoke of the furnaces where manacles
and fetters are still forged for human limbs. 1 see the
visages of those, who by stealth, and at midnight,
labour in this work of hell, foul and dark, as may be-
come the artificers of such instruments of misery and
torture. Let that spot be purified, or let it cease to be
of New-England. Let it be purified, or let it be set
aside from the Christian world ; let it be put out of the
circle of human sympathies and human regards, and let
civilized man henceforth have no communion with it.

I would invoke those who fill the seats of justice,
and all who minister at her altar, that they execute the
wholesome and necessary severity of the law. I invoke
the ministers of our religion, that they proclaim its de-
nunciation of these crimes, and add its solemn sanctions
to the authority of human laws. If the pulpit be silent,
whenever, or wherever, there may be a sinner bloody
with this guilt, within the hearing of its voice, the pulpit
is false to its trust. I call on the fair merchant, who
has reaped his harvest upon the seas, that he assist in
scouririne: from those seas the worst oirates which ever

infested them. That ocean, which seems to wave with
a gentle magnificence to waft the burdens of an honest
commerce, and to roll along its treasures with a con-
scious pride ; thai ocean, which hardy industry regards,
even when the winds have ruffled its surface, as a field
of grateful toil ; what is it to the victim of this oppres-
sion, when he is brought to its shores, and looks forth
upon it, for the first time, from beneath chains, and
bleeding with stripes ? What is it to him, but a wide
spread prospect of suftering, anguish, and death ? Nor
do the skies smile longer, nor is the air longer fragrant
to him. Tlie sun is cast down from heaven. An in-
human and accursed traffic has cut him off in his man-
hood, or in his youth, from every enjoyment belonging
to his being, and every blessing which his Creator in-
tended for him.

The Christian communities send forth their emissaries
of religion and letters, who stop, here and there, along
the coast of the vast continent of Africa, and with pain-
ful and tedious efforts, make some almost imperceptible
progress in the communication of knowledge, and in the
general improvement of the natives who are immediate-
ly about them. Not thus slow and imperceptible is the
transmission of the vices and bad passions which the
subjects of Christian states carry to the land. The
slave trade having touched the coast, its influence and
its evils spread, like a pestilence, over the whole con-
tinent, making savage wars more savage, and more
Irequent, and adding new and fierce passions to the
contests of barbarians.

I pursue this topic no further ; except again to say,
that all Christendom being now blessed with peace, is
bound by every thing which belongs to its character,
and to the character of the present age, to put a stop to
this inhuman and disgraceful traffic.

We are bound not only to maintain the general prin-
ciples of public liberty, but to support also those exist-
ing forms of government, which have so well secured
its enjoyment, and so highly promoted the public pros-
perity. It is now more than thirty years that these
States have been united under the Federal Constitution,
/in,(l_whatever Jortiuiu me\Y await them hereafter, it is

impossible that this period of their history should not
he regarded as distinguished by signal prosperity and
success. They must be sanguine, indeed, who can
hope for benefit from change. Whatever division of
the public judgment may have existed in relation to
particular measures of the government, all must agree,
one should think, in the opinion, that in its general
course it has been eminently productive of public hap-
piness. Its most ardent friends could not well have
hoped from it more than it has accomplished ; and those
who disbelieved or doubted ouglit to feel less concern
about predictions, which the event has not verified, than
pleasure in the good which has been obtained. Who-
ever shall hereafter write this part of our history, al-
though he may see occasional errors or defects, will be
able to record no great failure in the ends and objects
of government. Still less will he be able to record
any series of lawless and despotic acts, or any success-
ful usurpation. His page will contain no exhibition of
provinces depopulated, of civil authority habitually
trampled down by military power, or of a community
crushed by the burden of taxation. He will speak,
rather, of public liberty protected, and public happiness
advanced ; of increased revenue, and population aug-
mented beyond all example ; of the growth of com-
merce, manufactures, and the arts; and of that happy
condition, in which the restraint and coercion of govern-
ment are almost invisible and imperceptible, and its in-
fluence felt only in the benefits which it confers. W^e
can entertain no better wish for our country than that
this government may be preserved ; nor have we a
clearer duty than to maintain and support it in the full
exercise of all its just constitutional powers.

The cause of science and literature also imposes upon
us an important and delicate trust. The wealth and
population of the country are now so far advanced, as to
authorize the expectation of a correct literature, and a
well formed taste, as well as respectable progress in the
abstruse sciences. The country has risen from a state
of colonial dependency ; it has established an indepen-
dent government, and is now in the undisturbed enjoy-
ment of peace and political security. The elements of

knovvlodsic Rre universally diffusetl, and the reading por-
tion of the community large. Let us hope that the pre-
sent may !)e an auspicious era of literature. If, almost
on the day of tlieir landin;^, our ancestors founded schools
and endowed colleges, what obligations do not rest upon
us, living under cncumstaiicesso much more favourable
both for providing and for using the means of education ?
Literature becomes free institutions. It is the graceful
ornament of civil liberty, and a happy restraint on the
asperities, which political controversy sometimes occa-
sions. Just taste is not only an embellishment of socie-
ty, but it rises ahnost to the rank of the virtues, and dif-
fuses positive good throughout the whole extent of its in-
fluence. There is a connexion between right feelings
and right principles, and truth in taste is allied with
truth in morality. With nothing in our past history to
discourajie us, and with something in our present condi-
tion and prospects to animate us, let us hope, that as it is
our fortune to live in an age when we may behold a
wonderful advancement of the country in all its other
great interests, we may see also equal progress and suc-
cess attt'ud the cause of letters.

Finally, let us not forget the religious character of our
origin. Our fathers were brought hither by their high
veneration for the Christian Relinion. They journeyed
by its light, and laboured in its hope. They sought to
incorporate its principles with the elements of their so-
ciety, and to diffuse its influence through all their insti-
tutions, civil, political, or literary. Let us cherish these
sentiments, and extend this influence still more widely ;
in the full conviction, that that is the happiest society,
which partakes in the highest degree of the mild and
peaceable spirit of Christianity.

The hours of this day are rapidly flying, and this oc-
casion will soon be passed. Neither we nor our chil-
dreti can expect to behold its return. They are in the
distant regions of futurity, they exist only in the all-
creating power of God, who shall stand here, a hundred
years hence, to trace, through us, their descent from the
Pilgrims, and to survey, as we have now surveyed, the
progress of their country, during the lapse of a century.
We would anticipate their i:oncurrence with us in OUL

sentiments of deep regard for our common ancestors-
We would anticipate and partake the pleasure with
which they will then recount the steps of New-England's
advancement. On the morning of that day, although it
will not disturb us in our repose, the voice of acchima-
tion and gratitude, commencing on the Rock of Ply-
mouth, shall be transmitted throcjgh millions of the sons
of the Pilgrims, till it lose itself in the murmurs of the
Pacific seas.

We would leave for the consideration of those who
shall then occupy our places, some proof that we hold
the blessings transmitted from our fathers in just esti-
mation ; some proof of our attachment to the cause of
good government, and of civil and religions liberty ;
some proof of a sincere and ardent desire to promote
every thing which may eidarge the understandings and
improve the hearts of men. And when, from the long
distance of an hundred years, they shall look back upon
us, they shall know, at least, that we possessed affec-
tions, which running backward, and warming with
gratitude for what our ancestors have done for our hap-
piness, run forward also to our posterity, and meet them
w'ith cordial salutation, ere yet they have arrived on the
shore of Being.

Advance, then, ye future generations ! We would
hail you, as you rise in your long succession, to fill the
places which we now fill, and to taste the blessings of
existence, where we are passing, and soon shall have
passed, our own human duration. We bid you wel-
come to this pleasant land of the Fathers. We bid you
welcome to the healthful skies, and the verdant fields
of New-England. We greet your accession to the
great inheritance which we have enjoyed. We wel-
come you to the blessings of good government, and re-
ligious liberty. We welcome you to the treasures of
science, and the delights of learning. We welcome
you to the transcendant sweets of domestic life, to the
happiness of kindred, and parents, and children. We
welcome you to the immeasurable blessings of rational
existence, the immortal hope of Christianity, and the
light of everlasting Truth !

^ppttOiiv.

The following is a lisl of (he Discourses delivered on this Jlnnivenanj. Tho,^
marked with an asterisk have not been printed.

lltl' 1^'"^^' publicly noticed by the Old Colony Club.

}!!?• n^'t:^^ WiNSLO^v, jun. Esq. of Plyynouth, an Oration.*

Ylll- r°'"'L^ ^""y) *^' "^^-^^ ^^y (-3'^) ^ public dinner.

{Hr ^''''- Chandlep. RoBBiNS, oi Plymouth, on Ps. Ixxviii. 6. 7.*

1,1. D ''■ ^"-'^i^LEs Turner, D%txbury, Zeck. iv. 10.

Ult" S''^- ?^° Hitchcock, Pembroke, Gen. i. 31.

I!!x- ^"^^^ ^AMUEL BALDWi3f, Hanover, Heb. xi. 8.

,!!,• i!^''- Sylvanps Conant, Middleborou^h, Exod. i. 12.

]lVo' ^^^- ^'^^i^EL West, Dartmouth, Isai. Ixvi. 5~9.

il,r." ^®^'" Timothy Hilliard, Barnstable.'-''

1779. Rev. William Shaw, Marshfield.*

1780. Rev. Jonathan Moore, Rochester, Isai. xli. 10. 11.*

170/1 p ""^ *'^'' *""e the public observance of the day was suspended, tiJ.

VXt' 1 ,Q« '^-o'',°';f ^ RoEBiNS, D.D. Plymouth, Psal. Ixxvii. 11.

J795.— 1796.— 1797. Private celebration.

]lll' i^f"- ^-'^^"EUs Bartlett, Plymouth, an Oration.*

I7jy. 1 lie day was so near that appointed for the ordination of the Rev. M.

Iftnn ir.o'^^"'^^^' ^^^ '^ '"''' "°* celebrated by a public discourse.
1800. John Davis, Esq. Boston, an Oration.*

Ml' V'^^" "^'^"^ Allyn, Duxbury, Heb. xii. 2.

lonl' i°«^ Q"^^t;Y Adams, Esq., 5o*/on, an Oration.

iflof S'''"/"^'' T. KiRKLAND, D.D. Boston, Prov. xvii. 6.*

1804. (Lm-d^s Day) Rev. James Kendall, of Plymouth, preached frc.n

loni" ^^^^^ Bradford, Esq. JViscasset, Exod. xii. 14.
,oA, o^""' '^^'^'' Holmes, D.D. Cambridge, Romans, ix. 0.
1807. Rev. James Freeman, Boston.*

ioAo" o^''- T"^'°°=^^ ^^- Harris, Dorchester, Ps. xliv. 1. 2. 3.
JoVn o'^''- '^'''^'^ ABfiOTT, Beverly, Dcut. xxxii. 11. 12.
1810. Private celebration.

,^o,^^ i}:?''^'^ ^^y) ^''^'- -^o"^ Eliot, D.D. Boston.*
1812.— 1813— 1814. Private celebration.

lolf • ^r'^"- ,•? *^^^^ ''^'-^'^' Bridseicater, Ps. xvi. 6.

loi," i ""It ^""y) ^'^''- ^^^^ Goodwin, Sandwich, Isai. Ix. 2;.-

1817. Rev. Horace Hiolley, Boston.*-

1818. Wendell Davis, Esq. Sandwich, an Oration.*-
MM' f.^^^^'s C. Gray, Esq. Boston, an Oration.*
1820. Hon. Daniel Webster, Boston, an Oration,

C 219 89^1

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Full text of "A discourse, delivered at Plymouth, December 22, 1820, in commemoration of the first settlement of New-England"

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